


You're The Best Thing About Me

by justtopostmyfic



Series: U2's Songs of Innocence [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce is sick but Tony suffers too, Established Relationship, Happy is a voyeur to their intimacy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Outsider, Protective Tony Stark, Science Boyfriends, Sick Bruce, Sickfic, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtopostmyfic/pseuds/justtopostmyfic
Summary: Happy observes Tony taking care of a sick Bruce. It's like watching a totally different man, almost.Bruce is too sick to notice Happy's scrutiny, and Tony only has eyes for Bruce.[Celebrating how wibbly and cute Bruce looks nowadays! No movie plot or spoilers.]





	1. Love is justice, not charity

**Author's Note:**

> _"I can see you love [him] loudly /_  
>  _When [he] needs you quietly."_  
>  -U2, You're The Best Thing About Me
> 
> Tony learns how to take care of Bruce.

Pepper was pissed when she got the first text from Tony that morning. "Cancel everything on my schedule today and tomorrow," she huffed as she read out.

"What the hell, Tony?" She gritted through clenched teeth as her fingers flew across her Stark Phone. Happy would bet she abbreviated it to "wth" in her text. 

Tony's reply came in seconds, read aloud courtesy of Pepper again. Her tone was more uncertain this time. "Bruce is sick. Real—"

"Real what?" Happy asked after a sufficiently long pause.

"That's exactly what his text says," Pepper muttered, showing him her phone while he was stopped in traffic. Yep, it looked like Tony got distracted while sending that abruptly truncated text.

Happy read Pepper's latest reply that was still unanswered.

####  ` 8.19am sent `  
`What's wrong with Bruce?`

"I thought Bruce couldn't get sick," he wondered out loud.

"He's not supposed to be able to." There was definitely an edge of worry in Pepper's voice now.

Twenty minutes later, when Happy dropped Pepper in front of SI headquarters, Tony still had not replied. She gave him a distracted thanks and goodbye as she gathered her things and shut the door behind her.

Since when did Tony get up this early in the morning on his own accord anyway? Now Happy was worried too.

*

The next day at 3.42pm, Happy received a text from Jarvis.  


####  ` Bruce isn't contagious. J and I rush-tested his blood. Yes Pep, I was careful. Look, sorry but don't expect me at that board meeting tomorrow. Bruce is still feeling pretty bad. `

He knew that Tony had dictated the message to his AI and sent it to his small group of close staff the billionaire counted as friends.

Later that day, Happy heard through the pepper-vine that Bruce has what sounded like the stomach flu from hell, and the virus mutated so quickly in his bloodstream that it became harmless to humans, but extra virulent against Bruce's unique physiology.

Happy had to wince in sympathy as Pepper recapped her short call with Tony. Bruce wasn't used to being sick anymore, and the illness riddled him with a lot of anxiety, which in turn exacerbated the severe symptoms further. That gave some gut-wrenching clarity to Tony's vague text, and Pepper's voice was sympathetic.

Tony had taken it upon himself to be the 24/7 nursemaid to his boyfriend, and that made Happy wince again. The guy was head over heels mad about Bruce, but Stark and bedside manners should never be used in the same sentence.

*

The next day, Happy was lounging in the communal living space of the Avengers Tower, browsing the news on his Stark Pad in between levels of Candy Crush. He was supposed to meet Natasha in an hour to map out security detail for the Stark gala next week, although it seemed like a moot point when SHIELD's best had already covered every angle.

He had not seen Tony in over two days since Bruce fell sick, and he wondered about the genius boyfriends. _Hope Bruce is getting better_ , he thought.

Right on cue, the penthouse elevator dinged open and Bruce shuffled out with Tony close behind. 

They both didn't seem to notice Happy was there until they were almost at the kitchen, which had an unobstructed view of the plush couch Happy was on.

Bruce stopped in his tracks abruptly. "Oh, hey Happy," he greeted politely. The physicist unwrapped his arms from around his abdomen and moved them to his sides, although losing that self-comforting posture seemed to take him a lot of effort.

"What's up, Happy?" Tony echoed distractedly, even though his gaze was fixed on Bruce, like he was calculating whether to wrap his arms around Bruce to replace the embrace. Then he decided against it, maybe because Happy was there.

"Feeling better, Bruce?" Happy asked.

"Yeah," Bruce nodded and ducked his head jerkily. For as long as Happy knew him, the scientist was always uncomfortable being the center of attention or the topic of the conversation. "t-thanks."

"Wait a sec, are you here to drag me to the board meeting?" Tony asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing as he finally turned to look at Happy. And... Tony to the rescue by deflecting the conversation.

"Nah. But Pepper might not let you skip out on the gala next week. Security planning today." Happy shrugged easily.

"Okay, good." Tony relaxed. _Because I'm not leaving Bruce alone today._ Happy heard the unspoken words practically telepathed to him, unbeknownst to the sick man in question.

Speaking of Bruce, he looked like he had lost ten pounds in two days, with the way his shirt hung off his already compact frame. His complexion was sallow, making the dark circles under his eyes protrude. Oddly enough, it was Bruce who was the clean-shaven (probably freshly showered) one between the two of them.

Tony stood at Bruce's elbow a step behind him, looking uncharacteristically rumpled. He had shadows on his own face too; his cheeks were stubbled and the signature goatee was a lot less distinct, revealing how he was too preoccupied to shave. 

Tony looked haggard, as though he had also been seriously ill. Standing behind Bruce, Tony had an expression of open worry and fear. Worry about Bruce. Fear for Bruce, like Tony was living a nightmare to see Bruce sick over the last few days. 

It concerned Happy to see Bruce's pale lips almost disappear into his waxy skin, and he couldn't imagine how Tony must have been feeling.

They all thought the Hulk made him invincible and immune.

*

When Tony moved in front of Bruce to steer him to the island counter high stools, the fear and stress on his face was replaced by a mask of relaxed joviality.

"You said you wanted to try pancakes, right?"

"Yes please, Tone." Bruce answered uncertainly.

"Coming right up, Honey." Tony chirped with the over-the-top exuberance of an 80's diner waitress. It was a pretty good impression, and that earned a rusty chuckle from Bruce. Happy hid a smile behind his tablet too.

Tony moved around the kitchen with graceful ease, gliding like he was in his element in the lab. He washed his hands, set out plates, and pulled a package of pancakes from the freezer.

Then he snuck up behind the seated Bruce and rested his chin on Bruce's shoulder, setting the pancake box on the table for Bruce to see.

With both hands free, he wrapped them around Bruce's torso to give him a hug from behind. A broad grin broke out on Tony's face, while a surprised smile crossed Bruce's tired one. 

"How many, Brucie Bear?"

"Um, two please." 

Tony's smile faltered momentarily, and he looked like he wanted to make a comment on why Bruce only wanted two mini-pancakes, but then thought better of it and shut his mouth. 

"Want some pancakes, Happy?" Tony asked as he released Bruce from his embrace and straightened up. Happy mused to himself that he did not get the chipper waitress treatment.

_It's nearly two in the afternoon, Tony._  
Seeing Bruce's pinched and weary face however, Happy bit back his snarky thought and simply said, "none for me, thanks."

He liked Bruce —it was hard not to— and didn't want to cause him any grief. He didn't need to rub it in about their late breakfast, which was probably dictated by when Bruce's stomach felt well enough to eat.

There was something about Bruce, Hulk notwithstanding, that Happy could see why Tony felt such a protective urge toward him.

While Tony was setting the microwave and ransacking the cupboards and fridge for who-knows-what, Bruce made a valiant attempt at small talk. 

"So... um, the Mets are having a pretty good season so far, huh?"

Happy tried to put the shy man at ease by carrying on the conversation about a team neither of them cared about. 

Well, it was either that or stare at each other in silence, since the kitchen island directly faced the couch Happy was on.

Happy supposed he could have pretended to be fiddling with his Stark Pad, but he liked Bruce. He still got a small thrill talking with the guy who could turn into the Hulk. 

And what an awkward but genuine guy he was, Happy thought fondly as Bruce listened with that usual rapt expression of his. Although this time his eyes struggled a little to stay focused, which was unusual and worrying for Bruce.

The geniuses were good together, and not only because they spoke each other's language. Tony was drawing Bruce out of his shell more each day, and Bruce kept his eccentric friend on an even keel (when Tony wasn't worrying _about_ Bruce, that is).

When Bruce wasn't sick, Happy had caught little glimpses of him laughing uninhibitedly around Tony, like a joyous child in a weathered man's body. The billionaire would return the sentiment with a megawatt grin that reached his eyes, the rare moments he was truly carefree and unguarded.

They were the only ones who could elicit such sincere and unbridled happiness from each other. 

The pair brought calmness to each other as well; it was evident in their disposition, in their hands and faces especially. The physicist and the engineer together equated to Bruce without the anxiousness, and Tony without the mania.

That was the extent of Happy's math equation aptitude, but it was obvious that they were better together.

*

Tony plopped down two plates of pancakes, sliding the shorter-stacked plate in front of Bruce. He set a bottle of organic maple syrup between them, and finally presented a bonnet of washed fresh blueberries with flourish. 

Bruce eyed the fruit, then shook his head weakly.

"Suit yourself, Big Guy." Tony said breezily while he sprinkled a generous handful on his own plate as he sat down beside Bruce.

Bruce poured out a measured amount of syrup and ate hesitantly, like a man who couldn't eat for days.

Tony drenched his pancakes heartily, all four of them. He ate ravenously, like a man who _wouldn't_ eat for days. 

The realization hit Happy like an anvil, that Tony might not have had a hot meal for the past two days. Seeing as how Tony spent all his time with the violently sick Bruce in the penthouse, going by Pepper's reports and Jarvis' text, he probably deprived himself of anything that would assault Bruce's olfactory sense. That was quite some sacrifice and devotion.

While Bruce used a fork and knife in small, careful movements, Tony chowed down with just a fork, his other hand hidden below the table. Whether it rested in Bruce's lap, or on his back, or somewhere else, Happy couldn't tell. He didn't need to look too closely at that.

"So how's my cooking? Did I use the right amount of milk?" Tony joked.

Bruce smirked and retorted, "Well... you cooked it for the perfect length of time, Tony. And what's your recipe for this syrup?"

Not many people got to see the dry wit of Dr. Banner, and even fewer people (mainly, one) were on the receiving end of it.

Tony barked a laugh of glee, relief apparent on his face. Definitely not at how well he nuked the pancakes, but because Bruce was able to eat again.

They sat side by side, but their bodies were leaned in towards each other, convergent yet mirroring. Tony's head was practically facing Bruce in adoration, while Bruce basked quietly in Tony's gaze and touch in his unassuming Banner way.


	2. Love brings with it a clarity

Tony polished off his plate much more quickly, and effortlessly filled up the silence by chatting animatedly with Happy. Happy couldn't remember the conversation much, but he didn't even notice for a while that Bruce had slowed down and was chewing with greater difficulty.

He had to hand it to Stark for how he could control a room of thousands or two people. On hindsight, it was plainly obvious how Tony succeeded in drawing Happy's attention away from Bruce, while also trying to put Bruce at ease as he struggled to eat.

By the time Happy noticed, Bruce was slumped dejectedly over his plate, poking the half a stack that remained with his fork.

Bruce always hated wasting food, born out of all his time in third world countries. Another thing on his list of self flagellation that made him feel guilty.

"Done?" Tony asked quietly.

As soon as Bruce started nodding, Tony made quick work of discarding his leftovers without fuss. Then he loaded both their plates into the dishwasher.

_When the hell did Tony Stark clean up after himself, or anyone else for that matter?_

Tony continued chattering boisterously the whole time as he cleared the table swiftly— anything to distract Bruce from his guilt. 

When he was done, his voice downshifted into gentle intimacy as he stepped back into his boyfriend's personal space. Tony leaned a hip against the island counter, and Bruce rotated easily to face him.

"Do you want some tea? You know I can steep it properly now." Tony murmured gently against Bruce's ear as he bent over to embrace the seated man.

Bruce shook his head resignedly, and he sagged listlessly in his seat.

"No, I want to go back upstairs. What if I..." And the rest of it was muffled as Bruce sank his head into Tony's shoulder.

Tony's reply was even kinder than before, which Happy didn't know was possible. He never knew Tony was capable of such a... a _softness_ before today.

"Okay, Sweetheart. But I don't think that'll happen today again. And it's okay if you do, Bruce. It's not a big deal."

Then it clicked why Bruce stuck to a small bland breakfast and ate so cautiously.

Tony rubbed soothing motions up and down the sick man's back, but Bruce still blanched a little and swallowed audibly, his neck muscles tensely corded. 

Happy saw and heard the tendrils of anxiety creep into Bruce's posture and voice, and was amazed at how Tony mostly succeeded in diffusing it.

Bruce must have said something, because Tony was louder and firmer this time.

"... What, no, I'll stay with you. Because I want to, Bruce!" 

The two other people in the room knew Tony well enough to detect the underlying hurt in his voice.

"I want to take care of you, Brucie. Like how you've always done for me. Please?" Tony pleaded quietly.

The standing man drew back slightly from the embrace to press his forehead against Bruce's, cupping his face on either side. He held Bruce's gaze until he nodded into Tony's hands, almost imperceptibly.

*

It didn't count as spying or voyeurism when Tony chose to make the Stark Pad screens see-through, Happy smirked to himself as he pretended to use his device while eyeing the couple. They had both grown totally oblivious to him anyway.

He watched as Tony lightly brushed the pads of his thumbs under Bruce's eye bags, like he was trying to wipe off the illness from Bruce's countenance, and Bruce just placidly letting Tony groom and stroke him. 

Tony's concerned, focused gaze took in the tightness around Bruce's eyes, one of his telltale signs of anxiety.

Then Tony closed the distance, and the squeaks of wet smooches being planted were heard, although where exactly Happy couldn't see, because the back of Tony's head was now obscuring Bruce's face.

A content humming was the quiet reply, coming from the back of someone's throat. It took a couple of seconds, but then Happy realized the mysterious sound filling the air was from Bruce!

The billionaire didn't release his embrace of Bruce as the tension from the unexpected sickness seemed to melt off their bodies, with the way Bruce's, then Tony's, shoulders relaxed.

Two minutes ticked by on Happy's Stark Pad, and then Bruce slid off his high stool. His hips slotted right up against Tony's, like a lock and key clicking together in place. 

It was a pretty fitting image, because even though they were the same height give or take an inch, Tony always held himself tall while Bruce's posture favored self-effacing.

*

"See you around, Happy," Bruce mumbled earnestly as he looked over at Happy and offered a sweet smile.

Tony grabbed Bruce's hand, falling easily into the slower shuffling pace set by the sick man as they made their way to the elevator.

"Later, Hap." Tony tossed over his shoulder nonchalantly.

Ah, there was some of the Tony Stark swagger that Happy was much more familiar with.

He took back what he thought yesterday. Tony had plenty of care and bedside manners, but only where Bruce Banner was concerned.

**Author's Note:**

> Or maybe Tony already knows how to look after Bruce.
> 
> _"When you look so good, the pain in your face doesn't show /_  
>  _When you look so good, and baby you don't even know."_  
>  -U2, You're The Best Thing About Me
> 
> https://youtube.com/watch?v=pR_xcDhvvW0  
> Play this in the background and see if you like it. This new single inspired me to put this fic into words.


End file.
